The Sparkle in the Haystack
by jxnko
Summary: Without much thought, I dropped my sketchbook and pencil, which nearly missed the grave. The white piece of 'wood' connected to a short, blob-like feature, which connected to a xylophone of broken ribs.


**The Sparkle in the Haystack**

With the graphite in hand, I outlined the landscape before me. I drew the different trees along the swervy river. My green eyes scanned for every detail within my vision as my hand swiftly sketched and shaded the mess of lines into a beautiful masterpiece. With every single effort, I drew in every ridge and leaf upon the giant trees in sight. With only a slight glance, I noticed the roof of a building from the hills above and beyond, and took a couple strokes of my pencil to the paper. It wasn't that important, at least not now. Especially since my assignment was to draw the landscape instead of creepering over peoples houses.

I let my tired hand fall to the ground, resting my sketchbook against my knees which were already covered in dirt from sitting on them. Although the ground was muddy, I didn't mind it much on my clothing, especially since I never really washed any of my clothes anyways. I figured that was the purpose of parental units. What other use were they? I chuckled at my own thoughts as I pushed some of my frizzy, chocolate brown hair behind my ear. I felt a small breeze against my exposed ear, providing some sort of comfort from the beating sun above. It was obvious summer was anxious to arrive, although it was only early April. Even the grass hasn't recovered from this past wintertime! Stray, dead leaves still lay scattered against the ground, contrasting with the green, sprouting grass and weeds.

Taking note of those specific details, I closed my sketchbook and stuffed my pencil within the spiral that bound my art together in a collection. I shifted my position so that my shins were not under my body, but off to the side. I angled my arms behind me to support myself. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sounds around me, letting my senses indulge in raw nature. My ears focused intently on the chorus of birds, calling towards the skies – or perhaps each other? I don't know; I never really paid attention in Zoology.

"I knew I'd find you here."

That voice... Oh god, no. Not here in my safe haven! I reluctantly opened my eyes, now the most annoying man in the world was before me. I averted my gaze.

"You never leave me alone."

I looked at him, studied his expression, and hoped for some crack in his arrogant exterior. His dirty blond hair looked like a mop on his huge, egoistic head, with light brown eyes to compliment his shallowness. Obviously not taking the hint, he smirked at me. He squatted down to my eye level, resting his elbows on his knees. He stared at me, but if I didn't know better I would guess he was waiting for a less mean response. Geeze, the least he could've done was _not _invite himself...

"Well?" I raised an eyebrow, wishing he would just state his business here.

"Well what?" He replied, chuckling under his breath, "When are you going to ever be nice to me?"

Never.

"What are you talking about? I'm a doll." I said sarcastically. Unfortunately, my remark only left him holding back a laugh. God, I hated when he did that. Did he think laughter was a sign of weakness, along with everything else human in this world? I looked at his overconfident expression, secretly wishing a very large wasp would sting at least one flaw on his self-proclaimed perfection.

"Dolls don't have such a snappy attitude." He countered with the utmost confidence.

As I put my hand over my mouth to dramatize a large yawn, I turned my head to the side so he wouldn't be in my view. I could=2 0hear his voice again, but his words seemed to slip through the other ear. My eyes caught the attention of the building in the distance, but its character was different. Now, a cloud of brown smoke enveloped the area surrounding the structure, and my curiosity welled inside me. I held the sketchbook against my torso, fighting the urge to stand up and run in that direction; however, that desire was mostly fueled by the pathetic man trying to sweet talk me into whatever guys have in their mind.

"Is that house on fire?" I asked, mostly to myself. Sadly, he was quick to answer.

"Good observation, Sherlock. Yes. So dinner on Friday night?"

"Not in a million years." As I rolled my eyes, I stood up and felt the mud stick to my dark jeans. I turned my back to the guy, hopefully for good, and began to walk through the wooded areas of the forest. I found myself ducking my head as to not run into any of the low branches, and stepping over potential hazards of roots and rocks. Other than the shuffling of my feet, I did not hear any sound coming from the forest around me. After each step, Mother Nature seemed to eerily increase her silence. Not a bird chirped its song, nor did a squirrel scurry in search of food. It was dead silent within such a habitat. I stopped for a moment, contemplating my return to my haven before, yet my curiosity was too great. I was closer to the structure, but no smell of smoke entered my nostrils. I furrowed my eyebrows in frustration, continuing on with my journey.

Moving a brush out of my way, I finally reached what I thought was on fire. I stood there, staring at the lifeless barn before me. Its dark brown walls were a splinter-heaven while its roof adorned a dirtier shade. The doors were cracked open by a foot, and inside was darker than night. The highest window was cracked, and strands of golden hay stuck out like a sore thumb. I took out my sketchbook and held it securely to my torso as I grabbed the pencil from the spiral with another hand. I sketched the outline, and quickly found that the barn was built on an angle. I erased my straight mistake, and let the diagonal be known. In fact, I sort of exaggerated a bit. As I began to draw the doors, I took a few steps closer for a more detailed view. The barn door began to open, and frustration grew inside of me. Reluctantly, I walked to the barn door to shut it, yet something caught my eye - a single sparkle within a dull haystack.

I loosened my hold on my sketchbook a bit, feeling the spot where I had jammed it against me. I hesitantly took a few steps inside. Other than=2 0the open door behind me, the dirty, murky windows were my only source of light. I squinted, making my forehead scrunch up between the eyes. I took another step, and kicked something hard. I took a half step back, my breath began to quicken. The smell was peculiar, but I thought nothing of it. My eyes finally adjusted to my surroundings, so I looked down at my feet. A long, white piece of wood lay randomly on the floor. My eyes followed it to the source, but I found that it wasn't dead foliage.

"Ah. O– Oh god!" I clasped my hands to my mouth from either screaming or to keep my lips from trembling so much. Without much thought, I dropped my sketchbook and pencil, which nearly missed the grave. The white piece of 'wood' connected to a short, blob-like feature, which connected to a xylophone of broken ribs. The head seemed displaced, its jaw either broken or laid awkwardly from years of decay. Its right hand, or it's left, my head was spinning too much for me to figure it out, was outstretched with a spoon-like utensil. The other arm was down below by the pelvis with a black mug-looking thing covering the skeleton's finger bones, or lack thereof. My eyes twitched, I couldn't stop looking at every individual bone. I teared up, and the peculiar smell was strong inside my nose. I took a few choppy steps back, trying to regain control of my own body, but I fell backwards. My eyes caught the sparkle once more, but this time a rustling sound joined the strange phenomenon.

Beneath me, the dirt was moving in wave-like motions. I felt myself growing sick with every passing second, but my eyes were fixated on the sparkling. The haystack began to move with the ground, shaking every individual piece of hay. The sparkling substance flowed out from inside of it like a waterfall, approaching me by the inch. I tried crawling back, using one hand to aid my movement while the other was still around my lips. My feeble attempts were not fast enough now that it approached me, encasing my ankles in silky sand. I let out a loud scream; the substance was grainy against my bare flesh. I felt it inch up my thigh, through my shorts, and onto my torso. I was implanted against the ground now.

Whatever it was, it held me down to the ground. My back flattened against the dirt below as the substance was spreading across my skin. I felt a certain pressure, as if pins were sticking through every pore in my body. I wailed once more and tried to scrape off the sand, but my attempts failed.

My eyes drooped now, growing heavy and weak. Darkness surrounded me, but I no longer had the ability to fight back. My arms grew heavy as well as I laid them down to my side. I felt the needles break through my skin, and tried to scream with all of the breath in my lungs. My body stirred from underneath my skin as my muscles and fats felt as if they were being sucked dry from my body. From the bottom up, I felt my skin scrape against my bone. I felt heavy with sleep, but I kept myself awake to fight back against the pain. I felt the substance flow through my body, creeping towards my face. I couldn't feel any air in my lungs now, and I could no longer gasp for air. I knew I had only seconds before death would capture me. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes felt like hours, and I knew that my last breath was already taken. Pain no longer enveloped my body in a cold blanket. I could feel my eyes disappearing beneath my eyelids. I was cool and lifeless, an empty shell.

Looks like dolls can have can snappy attitude after all.

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**A/N: Another Creative Writing piece. I hope you all like it.:) Review!**


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